The Motor Boys on the Pacific eBook

“Well if this isn’t a queer thing,”
he said. “Did you ever see such a coincidence?
This letter is from Professor Uriah Snodgrass, and
listen to what he says: ’Dear Mr. Slade,
or Ned. I write thus as I want one of you to
read it in a hurry, and one of you may be away from
home. You remember the last I saw of you and
your chums (this part is for Ned) was in Florida.
There I secured the rare butterfly I was looking for,
and, through that success I was able to obtain a position
with a Boston museum, to travel all over the world
for them, collecting valuable specimens. I have
been here for only a few weeks, but I already have
a commission. I am soon to start for California,
in search of a Cornu batrachian.’”

“California!” murmured Jerry. “I
guess the fates want to pile it up on us.”

“Say, is that ‘Cornu batrachian’
anything like a mountain lion?” asked Bob.

“Wait,” counseled Ned. “He
explains. ‘The Cornu batrachian,’
he says, ’is what is commonly called a horned
toad. I must get several fine specimens, and
I thought you boys might be making another trip, and
could go with me. I would be very glad of your
company. Please let me hear from you. My
regards to Mrs. Slade.’”

“Well, wouldn’t that tickle your teeth!”
exclaimed Bob, more forcibly than elegantly.
“And we can’t go!” he added with
a groan.

“Think of the fun we’ll miss by not being
with Professor Snodgrass,” went on Ned.

“And with the Seabury family,” chimed
in Jerry.

“It’s tough!” exclaimed Ned.
“And school opens Monday!”

At that moment there was a whistle out in the street
and a ring at the door bell.

“The postman again,” said Ned. “I
wonder what he wants?”

He went to the door.

“Here’s a letter I forgot to give you,”
said the mailcarrier. “It got out of place
in my bundle, and I didn’t discover it until
I was quite a way up the street.”

“That’s all right,” answered Ned
good-naturedly. “From the Board of Education,”
he murmured, as he looked at the printing in the upper
left hand corner. “I wonder what they are
writing to me about?”

He opened it and drew out a printed circular.
As he re-entered the room where his chums were he
gave a cry of delight.

“Listen to this!” he called, and he read:

“’To the pupils of the Cresville
Academy. It has been discovered, at the last
moment, that a new heating boiler will be needed in
the school. The tubes of the old one are broken.
It has been decided to replace it at once, and,
as it will be necessary to do considerable work
about the building, thereby interfering with the proper
conducting of studies, the school will not open for
another month, or six weeks, depending on the length
of time required to install a new boiler.